14 April 2011 - Cabonne Country Caravan Park, Molong, NSW

Another morning of 4 degrees inside our little home! God knows what it was outside but then who cares? We were warm and snug in our bed and once up, soon again with our new heater which is far quieter and more efficient than the air conditioner on heat.

Glad to have 4WD

I discovered the laundry last night, to find that there was no charge to use the washing machines and that they were extra big commercial models. And so this morning I had the washing all hung on the line by about eight thirty, lunch packed and the housework done. We set off soon after nine, heading south east from Molong along minor roads toward Ophir. We had considered accessing this historical reserve from the Macquarie Woods end earlier in the week, however the weather had not lent itself to country tours. The roads were metal but the landcruiser does handle such roads particularly well. Paul, the caretaker here at the camp, had warned us about the ford on the Bell River, and given us his cellphone number in case we needed rescuing. He had also cautioned us against taking a further route out to a place called Hill End crossing the Macquarie River. The ford was simply a causeway well above water level, however we could see that at times it might prove treacherous. As we neared our objective, the road became more like a farm track, with rain scored ruts and very steep. Again, with the 4WD facility, none of this proved difficult for us.

Peaceful landscapes at Ophir

Ophir was the site of the first payable gold find, in April 1851, thus changing the course of history in Australia. There is really nothing left to show for this, just the odd interpretive plaque telling us where certain points of interest once were. The creek we had to ford to reach the spot where we stopped for morning coffee was very pretty, and we walked along the banks of it with the intention of following the lower part of one of the walks suggested. Unfortunately the stinging nettle became so dense, that although we were both in longs and sturdy shoes, I was fearful that I might stumble and save myself face and hand first in the nettles. And so we turned back.

Home of miners Max & Sheryl

Not short of vehicles

We then back tracked up the hill to where we had seen the sign “Working Gold Mine” and drove down to a messy looking depot. We could hear voices but see no one, so followed a path up to what appeared to be some workings. As we approached the mine entrance, a large elderly man emerged with two others, all wearing helmets. The two said thank you to the first, and remarked that they would leave since he had two more to guide. We made insipid noises about not wanting to go inside, however Max, as he introduced himself, took us in hand, and led us 140 yards into the mine. At one point he remarked it strange that “Sheryl” had not given us helmets. We had gathered by that time, listening to his rambling stream of conversation on matters on and off the subject of gold mining, that Sheryl was his wife who lived in the grotty little caravan shack at the bottom of the workings. Among the many facts he passed on to us regarding gold, we learned that recently they had taken five “trucks” or eight ton of rock from the mine and processed it to obtain half an ounce of gold. This was currently worth about $700, but when he started mining it was worth only $100. We escaped when he went back in to the mine to turn the lights out, thanking him profusely and fled to the cruiser and drove on up and out of the gully. Alas Max is past his use by date as a gold mining guide. He is vague, repetitive, breathless with a respiratory problem, delightful and helped to make our trip to Ophir memorable.

The old Ophir graveyard

At the top of the hill we took the track to the old cemetery and ate our lunch in the shade of the eucalypts and the company of the ghosts of the gold fields.

Pastoral land east of Molong

We decided to take a round about route back to Molong, toward the Macquarie River we would not risk crossing, but taking in the country side as far to the east as the other roads allowed. We did this so successfully we drove off the Hema map and out of Tomtom’s knowledge. We drove on and on, over cattle stops, through the Mullion State Forest, over the Mullion Ranges, over roads that were little more than farm tracks but frequently enough marked with a council post to assure us we were on public roads, through small flocks of sheep, some with lambs just days old. It was all quite wonderful however Chris did wonder if we were driving toward the empty lands that show no features on the map. Eventually we found a sign that indicated that we were not near Indonesia as he had by this time feared, but able to find our way back to the roads that are marked on the map, and not too far away from our original goal.

Much of the road travelled reminded us of the Molesworth, however the roads were not as good as that excellent and iconic South Island trip.

We arrived home six hours after our departure having travelled 134 kilometres, through very beautiful landscapes. We walked up into the village and purchased a newspaper, spent time chatting with an old digger on his mobility scooter who was also a mine of information and then returned in time to prepare dinner and batten the hatches down for another cold night.

Photo-shopped stump

As so often happens as I type this out and upload my photos, Olly popped up on Skype with an offer to fiddle with with any photo I may have taken during the day. Chris and I had stopped on the road side, one of those we were "lost" on, and taken photos of an amazing tree stump. So I sent this to Olly and he sent it back in the form below. It looks beautiful, different from the original but a wonderful interpretation of a thoroughly wonderful day.